


Smoking

by akite



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 20:41:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3461300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akite/pseuds/akite





	Smoking

Smoking

A. Kite (Nov. 2007)

Vecchio hated when Ray smoked in the apartment. He'd bitch and complain about the smell. "You have to do that in here? The smoke gets into my clothes and my hair," he'd say.

Where the fight went depended on what kind of day they'd had. After a really hard one, which was when Ray was more likely to have a smoke anyway, he'd get pissed and say, "Don't mess with me, Vecchio. It's my fucking apartment, if I want to smoke in it, I can."

"Fine, stay here in your stinky apartment and give yourself cancer then. No skin off my teeth. I'm out of here."

Vecchio would slam out the door. Ray would defiantly smoke more cigarettes until the place really did reek, and he felt sick. He'd open the windows and air out the apartment, even if it were freezing cold. Then he'd go to bed and shiver with no one there to snuggle up to and share body heat. He never got much sleep those nights.

Sometimes, Ray would laugh at Vecchio and say, "The smoke gets in your hair? What hair?"

To which, Vecchio would say, "Fuck you, Stanley," and slam him up against the nearest vertical surface. "You want something to suck on? I've got something right here." Vecchio would push against Ray harder, and Ray'd give him a smirk and kiss him the dirtiest way he could, pinned to the wall like that.

"God, you're a slut, Stanley," Vecchio would pant.

"You love it." Ray would wiggle and press a thigh against Vecchio's crotch to emphasize his point. "You're already hard - and don't fucking call me Stanley."

It got to be a regular thing. Ray sublimated his craving for nicotine by opening Vecchio's pants and sucking his cock while Vecchio clutched Ray's head and cursed in Italian. That was the second time Ray gave up smoking for Vecchio.

The first time he gave it up was for Stella. You see, he'd started smoking back when they were kids. Stella thought he looked sexy, and Ray thought it made him look tough. It was around that time he stopped wearing his glasses. They made him look like a dork, anyway. He stopped getting beaten up and called four eyes, and with Stella on his arm, it didn't matter that he couldn't see for shit.

Later, she made the same complaint about his smoking that Vecchio did. The smell got in her hair and her expensive designer power-suits, so he quit. When she filed for divorce, he took up smoking again. What did he care if it killed him?

When he took the undercover gig at the 2-7, there was no way he could be Vecchio and smoke. The few times he sneaked a puff or two, Fraser sniffed it out. He'd get in the car or sit down in his chair by Ray's desk and there his nose would go, literally sniffing out the odor. Fraser never out and out asked him if he'd been smoking. Oh, no, he'd sniff a couple of times and either start a lecture on the dangers of second hand smoke or tell a story about how Yukon Cornelius or whoever burned his cabin down by being careless with a lighted cigarette.

Funny, Ray never wanted a cigarette when he first got to Canada. Out on the sled during their quest for Franklin's hand, there was no place to buy any cigarettes, and honestly, being with Fraser 24/7 for the better part of three months made Ray forget there was even such a thing. Just surviving took everything he had. Plus, the air was so cold and clean it would have been a sacrilege to funk it up with tobacco smoke. Wood smoke was fine; when they could find wood, they used it and saved the fuel.

***

Ray wished it could have lasted forever. Life doesn't work that way, though; even up north the ice and snow eventually melt. They got to Inuvik, and Fraser was offered a posting there. Which was good, total greatness. Maggie was there, Fraser knew people there, knew the area. The only sour note was Ray knew he couldn't stay. Technically, he entered the country illegally, and that could only be ignored so long. Plus, Ray was on unpaid leave from the CPD and fast running out of money.

Not that wouldn't have stayed if he could, even if Fraser never felt the same way as Ray did about him. It was the story of his life - same song, different person. Ray cut the refrain short this time. Fraser opened his mouth a couple of times while Ray was packing, but closed it again and said nothing. At the airport, he clasped Ray's hand and said, "I'll miss you, Ray. Keep in touch." Ray pulled him into a hug that Fraser backed off from way too quickly. Fraser put his hat on his head, squared his shoulders and walked away.

Ray had the cab from O'Hare stop at a 7-11, and with the last bit of cash he had on him, he bought a twelve pack of beer, a carton of smokes and a package of beef jerky. What? A guy had to eat.

That first night back, he drank most of the beer and smoked three packs of cigarettes. The next morning after he puked up the jerky and got finished hacking up his lungs, Ray scrounged around and found some only slightly expired aspirin and took a long, hot shower. After the shower, he picked up the phone and called Lieutenant Welsh.

When he got to the squad room, Ray was surprised Vecchio sitting at his old desk - the one they'd fought over. Last he heard Stella and Vecchio had taken off together to Florida. Vecchio looked even more surprised to see Ray when he looked up from the file he was going over with some guy Ray'd never seen before. He stood up and started over, but Welsh opened his office door and said, "Get in here, Kowalski." before he got halfway across the floor.

Vecchio was out on a call by the time he came out of Welsh's office but managed to run him down that afternoon when Ray went outside for a smoke break. His voice tried hard for casualness but still sounded tight, "I didn't expect to see you back here, Kowalski. What happened? Couldn't take the cold up there or did Fraser just get tired of your skinny ass?"

Ray took one last drag on his cigarette, carefully put it out and with a speed that astonished witnesses, grabbed Vecchio by the throat. "You want to tell me what you're doing back here? Florida too hot for you or did Stella kick your skinny ass out?"

Of course, Vecchio couldn't answer since he had Ray's hand wrapped around his throat. Someone pulled Ray off - the guy was pretty strong too. He held Ray through a couple of attempted lunges, until the fight left him, and Ray deflated like one of those mylar balloons with a slow leak. "You done now?" he was asked. Ray nodded and he was let go.

How they got from there to first being fuckbuddies and later becoming more is a long story. Short form, once they had it out away from the station, they found that they worked pretty well together. They brought down some bad guys and hung out celebrating the fact that they were still alive. One thing lead to another and except little day-to-day things that they bickered about, like whether pineapple was an appropriate topping for pizza, they got along. Pretty soon, though, the only smoking Ray was doing was between the sheets.


End file.
